The Imprisonment of Tri-City
by Talo12Books
Summary: After the Lowardian invasion, the world begins to clean up. Arkham Asylum in Gotham is no longer secure. The inmates are transferred to a new correctional facility in Middleton, claimed to be more secure than Arkham Asylum. The inmates soon escape. Now Team Possible must face these new threats. But not everything is as it seems. Will they be able to stand up to the challenge?
1. Fear of the Scarecrow Issue 1

**This story is told by issues, like a comic book. Though it will not act like one. Everything is continuous through the chapters. The issues just mean part (#) of that chapter title. They act like regular chapters in a book. It is just something fun that I thought I would try.**

**This starts to take place at the end of September, 2007 (Kim and Ron graduated high school in late May).**

**The Imprisonment of Tri-City**

**Chapter 1, Fear of the Scarecrow Issue #1**

**Arkham Asylum**

"I assure you, this is the best option you have right now. It is a secure facility, more so than this one." A voice came from Warden Sharp's office. The tension in the room was so thick; you could cut it with a knife.

"And you are positive that this new facility will work?" The nervous warden grabbed the glass of water on his desk and took a drink.

"While Arkham Asylum is rebuilt, the Middleton Correctional Facility will ensure that not a single inmate will get loose." The man in Sharp's office stared at Sharp intently from behind his glasses. The warden hesitated for a second before making a decision. He wondered if he had actually gotten a glass of water at some point. He felt a strange sensation, but it subsided swiftly. He then proceeded with the intention of declining the man's offer.

"After careful consideration, I have decided it would be best if we transferred the inmates, Professor." Quincy did not know why he answered as he did, but he had a strange feeling the decision was the correct one.

"Please, call me Strange." The man gave a large leer.

**Middleton Correctional Facility for the Criminally Insane**

**One week later**

A man sat in a padded cell in solitary. He stared blankly at the door. He laughed quietly to himself. He did not move from the position he was currently in, sitting on a chair, staring at the door. He imagined himself tearing off the head of the next guard to come through the door, barehanded. He just sat and watched and waited. An hour later, there was the sound of the door opening. A guard entered the room carrying a brown, wooden box, roughly the size of his forearm. The man waited for the guard to come closer. The guard knew better. The inmate simply sat there, staring at the box. He wondered what was in it.

"Somebody brought you a few treats, Mr. Cane. I hope you enjoy them while they last." The guard had a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"There is no Crane…only Scarecrow." The guard set the box down and walked out of the room, muttering a, whatever under his breath. As soon as the door was shut, Crane lunged at the box. He knew there had to be more than a few snacks in there. The box was much too large to only contain those items. Crane dug through the box. Only the treats were in it. He hit the bottom of the box in frustration.

It was hollow. Crane swiftly ripped the fake bottom off of the box. He pulled out two devices, which held small aerosol canisters, which activated when the hands were rotated backwards. He put the devices on. He then noticed something else in the box. He pulled the item out. It was a burlap mask. Crane smiled. He put the mask on. It was time for Scarecrow to spread fear once again. And this time the Batman would not stop him.

After a few hours, the door opened again. The same guard as before entered. Crane was staring at the ground.

"You have another package, Mr. Crane. I don't know what is in it because we aren't allowed to open it." The guard looked at the large wooden box. The guard set the box on the floor of the cell.

"Crane is no longer here…it is Scarecrow." Crane's voice was deeper and sounded like a loud whisper. The guard looked over at Crane. Crane lifted his head and looked at the guard. Crane had the burlap mask on. The guard's eyes widened, realizing why he was getting the boxes.

"Oh crap!" Before the guard could make it out of the door, Crane had grabbed him from behind. Crane gave the guard a dose of Fear Gas in his face. The guard coughed a few times and Crane let him go. The guard stopped coughing and looked around. Upon seeing Crane, the guard began to scream uncontrollably. Crane pulled the guard further into the room and shut the door.

Crane opened the box. He pulled out a long sleeve, burlap shirt. He then pulled burlap pants and a rope belt out of the box. There were also deep tan gloves and workman's boots. Crane smiled under the mask at the last item in the box.

Crane took off the prison issued clothes. He then put the clothing from the box on. After the clothing was on, he removed the last item. It was in parts. He grabbed the two three-foot long wooden poles from the ground in front of him. The poles were able to interlock creating a six foot long pole. At the top of the pole, it was shaved as to have a flat side. There were also two holes in through the flat part, as it would be if you were to mount something flat to the pole. The inside of the holes were threaded. Crane grabbed the two long screws and twisted them into the round end of the top of the pole.

He then held up the next piece. It was a two foot long scythe blade. There were two holes on the back end of the blade. He put the screws through the holes on the blade, on the flat side of the pole. Crane grabbed the two metal nuts and twisted them on as tight as he could on the side of the pole with the blade.

He then looked over his scythe before swinging at the padded wall leaving a deep incision. Crane looked back at the still screaming guard before exiting the cell. He stood in the hall and looked around. The halls were empty. Crane looked down at his feet. There was a pointed, burlap hat at his feet. Crane smiled. He now had a complete outfit. He picked up the hat and put it on.

"This city will learn the fear of the Scarecrow." Crane laughed. He was free of the bat as long as his goons in Gotham kept him busy. First item on Crane's list was manufacturing a lot more Fear Gas. Scarecrow was going to attempt to scare the Tri-City into following his will. He will begin with taking out any local heroes.


	2. Deathstroke's Contract

**The Imprisonment of Tri-City**

**Chapter 2, Fear of the Scarecrow Issue #2 Deathstroke's Contract**

**Middleton Correctional Facility for the Criminally Insane**

Professor Strange walked down the hallway. Everything was going according to plan for him. He would rule this city as it was meant to. When he had first pitched the idea for Arkham City to Gotham, he was turned down. He had a better luck here. Construction was scheduled to begin in three months' time. Strange reached the end of the hallway. There was a large metal door in front of him. The sign on the door read, "Patient is considered extremely dangerous. Do not enter under any circumstances." There was a keypad and slot for an access card. He swiped the card and entered the security override code on the keypad. The door opened. Strange entered the room. There was a booming voice.

"What do you want?" Strange walked further into the dark room.

"I have a proposition for you." A loud grunt echoed through the room.

"What kind of proposition?" There were loud footsteps. A large figure covered in shadow approached Strange.

"There is a nosy superhero intruding on my facility. I want you to kill her, Waylon." There was an echoing laugh.

"What do I get in return for killing this bitch?" A smile crossed Strange's face.

"We can work something out. I am a very giving man."

"When do I start?"

**Elsewhere in Middleton Correctional Facility for the Criminally Insane**

Crane had found a security room. The door was locked. It could only be accessed by an access card. Crane was annoyed at this. He then noticed that there was a small space between the door and the frame. Crane placed the blade of the scythe in the space. It fit perfectly. Then, with all his might, he sliced in a downward motion, severing the lock from the door. Crane, satisfied with his work, proceeded to open the door.

The room was set up so that one man could run it. Crane assumed the guard who was engulfed with fear, in his cell, was the one who ran this. The room was filled with monitors which showed each cell. They were labeled with the name of the inmate in them. There were override buttons for each cell. He looked through the different inmates names.

He came upon one that he felt would fulfill his duties, V. Zsasz. Crane smiled under the mask and pressed the button. Zsasz's door opened. Zsasz approached the door and peeked out, looking around.

Crane grabbed a microphone for the intercom that sat on the table. He pressed the talk button.

"Zsasz, you're time has been served. Come work with me and we shall spread fear throughout this city." Zsasz smiled, before heading towards the elevator out of the asylum. Crane smiled. He pressed the button again to close the cell door.

Crane noticed another override. But this one wasn't a button. It was in the form of a panel that required two keys to be inserted and twisted simultaneously. There was no monitor for this inmate. The label for it simply read, "Patient-173".

**Chez Couteaux**

A man in a tuxedo approached the restaurant. This restaurant is the type of restaurant that you go to while on a date, or if you are rich. The man walked alone. He approached the host, who behind a podium near the very entrance of the restaurant.

"Name?" The man looked past the host and at the guests.

"Slade." The host checked a list of reservations. He found the name.

"Ah, Mr. Wilson, table for one, I presume." The host called a waiter over.

"Yeah." Slade wryly said this and began to follow the waiter, observing every guest. He was seated at a booth.

"What could we start you off with tonight?" Slade continued to look around.

"A bottle of your finest wine, sealed." The waiter nodded, jotting it down.

"As you wish." The waiter hurried off. Slade continued to look around until he spotted someone. He was out for dinner with his family.

"I found you." Slade muttered this under his breath. The wine arrived.

"That will be all for tonight." Slade had said, pulling out his wallet. He handed the waiter a couple hundred dollars.

"Keep the change." The waiter took the money and walked away. Slade noticed the man get up from his table and headed to the bathroom. Slade put gloves on and got up. He grabbed the wine bottle in one hand as if it was a baseball bat. He followed behind the man. Upon entering the bathroom, Slade noticed it was empty. As soon as the door closed, Slade came up behind the man and hit him over the head with the bottle, producing a loud thud. The bottle remained intact. As soon as the man began to get up, Slade hit him with the bottle on the side of the head, knocking him into one of the stalls.

Slade set the bottle on the sink and entered the stall. He grabbed the man by the hair and slammed his head into the toilet lid. Slade repeated this a few more times. There was blood left on the lid from the impacts. Slade the shoved the man's face into the bowl and began to drown him. The man flailed around, attempting to try to find something to help him out. Slade let the man go. He came up for air. He panted heavily. Slade pulled out a garrote wire and wrapped it around the man's neck. Slade began to pull the handles away from one another.

The man started to choke and reached for his neck, attempting to get the wire loose. Slade gave a good yank. The wire became tense, slicing cleanly through the man's neck. The man's arms went limp and his head fell from his shoulders onto the ground. Slade then proceeded to clean the wire and put it away calmly. He then pulled out a flip phone and took a picture of the scene. He then sent it to a contact on the phone. Shortly, a reply came back. The text read the following.

_The money has been transferred to your account. I have another target for you. This one is a pain in my side. She is putting a serious dent in business._

_Kill her!_

_You will be rewarded with a twenty million dollar transfer to your account._

_Name: Kim Possible_

_-Sionis_

There was a picture attached. It was of a redhead girl who looked to be just over the age of eighteen. Slade realized he had seen her just before collecting his bounty. She was there with a blond-haired boy. This was such a large bounty for just a teen. But then, as Slade knew, looks could be deceiving. He recalled his encounters with Timothy Drake.

Slade's trap began now. He pulled a small piece of paper and pen out of his pocket. He wrote a note on the paper. Putting the pen away he grabbed the bottle of wine and exited the bathroom. He knew someone would find the room soon, and he would rather not get caught. Slade walked past the table with the redhead and the blonde, leaving the wine and note. The blonde was up to some buffoonish antics. Slade exited the restaurant.

"I don't think we ordered any wine." The blonde looked confused. The redhead grabbed the note and read it.

"Hey, KP, what does it say?" The blonde inquired. The redhead looked confused.

"It says…A gift." The redhead looked at the blonde. She would have her tech-savvy friend try to match the handwriting later. For now, she wanted to enjoy her evening.


	3. Fear of the Scarecrow Issue 3

**The Imprisonment of Tri-City**

**Chapter 3, Fear of the Scarecrow Issue # 3**

**Middleton Correctional Facility for the Criminally Insane**

Jonathon Crane walked past all of the inmates that were lined up. Crane had given them the tools for escape. They all carried rifles that strongly resembled the Heckler and Koch G36C. He had prepared for this moment for the past few years. He was ready to take what was his, Tri-City. As he walked past the masked inmates, he looked into their eyes to ensure that they showed no fear. That they would give no second thought about killing, that they were willing to be led. The masks almost identically resembled Crane's.

Crane walked up to the reception desk in the visitor's lobby and vaulted over it. He walked over to a microphone on the table. He pushed the body of the receptionist out of the chair. There were multiple stab wounds in the back. There was a small blood pool separate from the rest. This was Zsasz's work. Crane pushed the "Press-To-Talk" button on the microphone. He spoke in his deep, raspy voice.

"Inmates of Middleton Correctional Facility. I have given you the tools of your freedom. Take them, and together we shall take what is ours. Show no mercy, no remorse. Kill those who get the rifles from you. As for the rifles, the ammunition they fire resemble needles, but much stronger. They contain a modified version of the fear gas, a much more potent concoction. So try not to stab yourselves. Ensure that all citizens feel the fear. And there is no need to worry about the Batman. My associates in Gotham are keeping him and his sidekicks busy." Sirens from outside could be heard throughout the lobby. Crane smiled under his mask.

"It looks like the police want to be the first to feel the fear. Kill them all." There was an ever growing scream of anger as fifty inmates charged the glass doors. Crane laid his scythe on the receptionist's desk. He slowly approached the doors. He saw that S.W.A.T. had also arrived. Most of the S.W.A.T. teams were rolling on the ground, screaming in fear along with multiple officers. The three who were left took cover behind the cars. He took notice of two young adults. They looked about eighteen or so. There was a redhead and a blonde. Crane recognized them from the newspaper on the receptionist's desk. Crane spoke in a whisper.

"Kim Possible." Crane opened a door and walked out. The doors were held open by an automatic sensor. All of the inmates examined their handiwork, ensuring that no one was left without a needle sticking out of them. Crane observed the scene before speaking.

"Go, spread to the city! Leave no one without the fear!" Crane turned and entered the facility again. As the remaining officers, and the two teens were about to try to leave the cover to enter the facility, they heard another roar. This one was much louder. Soon, hundreds of inmates poured out of the front doors. They ran straight past the cars and vans, into the city. The officers and teens frantically tried to keep in cover, for fear of being found and shot.

As the last several inmates exited the facility, there were loud thuds that swiftly approached. Before the door could open, the glass was shattered and the doors flew from their hinges, along with the window above the door. A large, eleven-foot tall, half-crocodile half-man burst through the door and kept running, unfazed. As he ran, he knocked a police car out of his way with the back of his hand. It flew a good twenty feet in the air before landing on another police car, flattening both of them. The creature kept running towards the city. The surviving officers and the teens sat in shock at what they just witnessed.

The teens knew that the correctional facility could wait. First, they had to roundup the escaped inmates and the creature. They ran towards the city. The two knew that this would take forever. The teens headed towards the only two they knew could help.

An armor-clad figure watched from a nearby roof through a pair of binoculars. When he saw that the two teens were on the move, he put the binoculars away and ran towards the roof of the building next to him. He knew that this would not hinder his plans. It would actually help them. Cleaning up the city would tire out the two to the point where he could just walk up to the girl and break her neck and walk away. He jumped from the roof of the building onto the street, doing a roll to break his fall. The face behind the black and copper mask watched the teens as they ran. He ensured to keep out of sight of them.

Small bar outside of Middleton

10:00pm

This night was a stormy night. Not unusual for Northern Colorado. A tall, Cuban man wearing a trench coat sat on the bar stool, downing his fourth beer for the night. A baseball cap covered the circular metal plate on the back of his head. A gym bag sat next to him on the chair. The man was deep in thought. He ordered another drink, when a man sat next to him. The man also had a trench coat on. If you looked hard enough, you could see he was wearing a suit underneath. He had a scarf around the lower half of his face and a baseball cap on. If it was in a different light, you would probably see a glossy sheen along, what looked to be, a black mask that was fused to the man's head.

"Make that two." The drinks came. The Cuban began to down his. The other man let his sit there. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope.

"I have a job for you. Are you interested?" He slid the envelope across the counter to the Cuban. The Cuban set down an empty beer mug.

"What is in it for me?" The Cuban took the envelope and put it in his pocket. The Cuban looked at the man. The man continued to stare at the wall behind the counter before speaking.

"Twenty million dollars." The Cuban contemplated this. He wondered who the target was. From the sound of meeting here as the top priority, this person was most likely someone almost as good as Bruce. It would be a simple task for him. If he could break the Bat, he could break anyone.

"I'm in, Roman." The man named Roman nodded.

"How you go about it is your business, I just want it done." Roman got up and left. As soon as Roman left, the Cuban pulled out the envelope. He swiftly opened it, ensuring not to draw attention to himself. He pulled out a letter and a picture. The letter read as follows.

_I have a target for you. This one is a pain in my side. She is putting a serious dent in business._

_Kill her!_

_You will be rewarded with a twenty million dollar transfer to your account._

_Name: Kim Possible_

_-Sionis_

The Cuban looked at the picture. It was of a young redhead, about the age of eighteen. He looked at the name. He had seen it in the newspaper. The Cuban knew this would go smoothly. His plan was to torture the poor girl before killing her. He knew exactly who he needed for that job, the monstruo known as The Joker. The Cuban mumbled under his breath.

"Possible." He put the picture and letter in his pocket. The bartender came by and collected the empty cups.

"Will that be all?" The Cuban looked at the bartender.

"Yes." He got up, grabbed the gym bag, and left. On the way out, his spoke under his breath.

"And call me…Bane."


	4. Deathstroke the Terminator Issue 1

**This story has changed categories from Batman: Arkham Asylum/City to Injustice: Gods Among Us, as to add characters that are not of Batman. It will not use the events from Injustice though, this is simply because I want to use characters from Injustice that are not under the category of the DC universe, yet. Anyone who has played Injustice knows who I am talking about.**

**The Imprisonment of Tri-City**

**Chapter 4, Deathstroke the Terminator Issue #1 Guest Starring Doomsday**

**Middleton Correctional Facility for the Criminally Insane**

The Redhead and Blonde watched from behind a car as hundreds of patients came streaming out of the correctional facility. Behind the patients was an eleven foot tall half reptilian, half man. He tossed a car aside like it was nothing. The last surviving cop took off after them, calling for backup at the same time. The Blonde blurted out his next statement, though not on purpose.

"What the heck is that?" They stood up and watched as it followed the patients into the city.

"That is Waylon Jones, otherwise known as Killer Croc. He is a patient of mine." An older man in a lab coat had said, calmly walking towards the teens. The redhead stepped forward, ready for anything.

"Who are you?" The man stopped a few feet away. He spoke calmly.

"My name is Hugo Strange. I am a doctor at the Middleton Correctional Facility for the Criminally Insane." The redhead slightly lowered her guard.

"I am-"

"Kim Possible. Your fame precedes you." Strange cut her off.

"How did they get out?" She indicated the direction of the escaped patients.

"A patient named Jonathon Crane organized a prison break. You would not have expected him to be the one to. All he does is sit in the middle of his 'room' all day. He was the one wearing the burlap. He slowly got his outfit and arsenal anonymously, piece by piece, for a few weeks prior to today." Strange shook his head. "A damn shame. Just when he was beginning to show signs of reform too." Hugo walked back towards the correctional facility. Kim turned to Ron.

"Come on, Ron. We are going to need some help with this." The two headed for a rendezvous with a ride set up by the boy genius, Wade. Global Justice was preoccupied with cleaning up the destruction left behind by Lorwardian war machines. So, they were of no help. Kim knew of two people who may help. Though they did, even though inadvertently, save the world; the redhead still did not trust them. They still occupied the lair in the Caribbean. Kim figured they would be up to their old tricks in no time. As the two teens made their way towards the rendezvous, they did not notice the one following them, a man in black and copper armor.

The man had hacked a watch like device the female wears. It would allow him to track the two easily. He also noticed that the blonde was bugged. Communications from the watch and the bug led back to the same place, to someone named Wade. He played back the most recent communication to this Wade. The redhead told him that they were in trouble with the inmates of the correctional facility and a giant crocodile man running around. Slade wondered who would be crazy enough to let Killer Croc loose. They said that they were going to try to get help from a Drakken and Shego. Slade had pulled up their files. They were nothing but small time villains. The price on their heads was a measly two hundred thousand dollars each. He would let Deadshot or Copperhead have that contract. A couple hundred thousand was nothing compared to the twenty million on the teen hero's head.

A jet had touched down a few blocks from the correctional facility. After the teens had boarded and the jet began preparations for takeoff, Slade silently approached the jet and activated his magnetized gloves. He then put his hands on the side of the jet. They stuck to it. His feet then magnetized too. The jet took off and made its way to some place in the Caribbean. As it approached the island, the teens prepared to jump from the plane and parachute down. Slade demagnetized over the water as for it to prevent him from injury. The teens landed on the island and began ascending the mountain the lair was built on top of.

**Meanwhile in Middleton**

An unmarked, black jet hovered over the city of Middleton. Inside was a small squad of PMCs. They all aimed their weapons at a large figure with what looked to be jagged bones protruding from its skin. Its skin was a gray mud color. It wore green combat shorts. It had a single braid of white hair on its otherwise bald head. There was a chip planted under its skin. Its wrists and ankles were bound together. It stared at the bay door of the jet with its red eyes. A brave PMC spoke up.

"Remember your target. Kill all who get in your way." A small electric shock was sent through the creature's spine, into the brain. This created an image of two teenagers, a redhead female and a blonde male. The creature shook its head as it felt the shock. The PMCs backed up into a room behind them. They shut and locked the door upon entering. The bay door began to open. A PMC reached for the button to release the restraints on the creature. He paused before pressing the button.

"If this somehow gets traced back to Lexcorp, Luthor will be in big trouble and he'd probably back out of the elections next year." The others looked at him. Another spoke up.

"He might not win now." Everyone now looked at him.

"He has ninety-four percent of popularity among the voters. I highly doubt he will lose." The first then pressed the button to release the restraints. The PMCs watched as the creature stretched out. They feared for their lives. They knew that the door would not protect them if the creature decided to go after them. Instead, the creature walked out on the lowered bay door. It let out a roar before jumping out of the jet and through a building across the street. The bay door began to close as the jet began to leave the area. One of the PMCs smirked.

"Doomsday has arrived." Sounds of the destruction of the city could be heard, along with the occasional roar from the creature. There was a roar from the creature louder than the others.

"Possible!"


	5. Deathstroke the Terminator Issue 2

**The Imprisonment of Tri-City**

**Chapter 5, Deathstroke the Terminator Issue #2 Guest Starring Doomsday, Cameo by Superman**

**Middleton**

Batman had sent Nightwing to investigate reports of a prison break in the temporary Arkham in Colorado. The computer system in the correctional facility had been set to notify Batman if any of the villains got out. The computer had gone ballistic. It reported that almost all of the prisoners had escaped, excluding the Joker. The computer said that he was still locked in his cell, Patient-173. Batman and Nightwing were glad that he was. There was no telling how many deaths there would be if he escaped. Nightwing swiftly neared the city on his motorcycle. Everything seemed peaceful in the city, except for the pillars of smoke billowing from the rooftops. Grayson noticed a figure jump high into the air before crashing down into a building.

"What the hell?" Grayson's eyes widened. A voice rang in his earpiece.

"That was Doomsday." It was Superman. Grayson's eyes widened.

"What is he doing here? He wasn't sent to Arkham." Superman's voice came again.

"I don't know, but it seems he is searching for something. Whatever it is, it can't be good. Don't engage him. I'll be there soon." Grayson felt his stomach turning. He knew the power of Doomsday. He knew that many have died already from his rampage. Grayson hoped that Superman would show up soon, so that no one else would die by the hand of that monster.

**Dr. Drakken's Lair in the Caribbean**

Gunshots rang out through the facility. Bullet holes appeared on the metal door with each shot. Swiftly, Deathstroke reloaded. He began to empty the new clip into the door.

"If you give up the redhead, Kim Possible, I'll let the rest of you go." Deathstroke continued to empty the magazine into the door. Bodies littered the floor, bullet holes riddling them. Deathstroke's swords have not tasted blood yet, as he saved them for killing the teen hero. Nothing of value in the room had survived Deathstroke's onslaught. Once out of ammunition on his current magazine, he loaded the grenade launcher.

"I am going to get through the door one way or another. And if you don't give up Ms. Possible, when I get through the door, I will kill all of you." There was no response.

"Have it your way." He fired the grenade launcher. Upon hitting the door, it exploded, leaving a large dent in it. He loaded another round. He fired again. This time it blew the doors open. Before the smoke could clear, he was charged by the green woman, Shego. The green plasma engulfing her hands, she took a swipe at Deathstroke. He swiftly dropped his rifle and easily dodged the attack by leaning back. As he came back up, he put his arm up to block a swipe at his face. He threw a counter punch, hitting her in the stomach. She recoiled from this, but swiftly came back, blocking the punch at her face. Deathstroke noticed that the redhead did not make a run for it. Instead, she ran towards the fight. Upon seeing this, Deathstroke dove to his left, rolling upon hitting the ground. Halfway through the roll, he grabbed his staff, which was dropped earlier, and brought it up to block a kick from Kim Possible. When her foot connected with the staff, he pushed back with the staff, causing her to stagger backwards. He then rolled forward into a stand, delivering an overhead strike. Kim dodged at the last second.

He then swiped, into a kneeling position, at the back Kim's legs with the staff as soon as she dodged his last strike. Kim was unable to dodge the strike and was tripped. Deathstroke heard the green villain charging at him from behind. In a bold move, he thrust his staff behind him at the villainess. It connected with her diaphragm, sending her reeling back in pain and out of breath. He stood up and prepared to deliver a swipe to the villainess' head. By this time Kim was back on her feet. She struck at the assassin; but as she struck he dodged a blast from Shego's plasma, causing it to hit her. Kim flew backwards from the blow, causing her to land on her back. Deathstroke smirked under his mask. He did a back flip, dodging Shego's swipe at his legs. He landed behind Kim as she stood up. Deathstroke jabbed her in the back causing her to stagger forward. Before Kim could fully recover, Deathstroke delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of her face, causing her to fall on her side. Deathstroke then brought his staff down on her side, causing her to cough up some blood. The fallen hero was dazed and in immense pain. Deathstroke brought his staff on her side again, emitting a loud crack.

"Sounds like I broke a few ribs." The assassin smirked under his mask. The teen hero struggled to get up but couldn't. Deathstroke dodged low to avoid a roundhouse kick from the villainess. She immediately brought her foot down in a downward kick, hoping to catch the assassin off balance. Deathstroke brought the staff up to block. Deathstroke was in the wrong position for this block. He fell back onto the ground, still blocking the kick with his staff. While on the ground, Deathstroke kicked the villainess in the back, causing her to stumble forward. Deathstroke rolled to a kneeling position.

"KP!" Ron shouted, seeing his girlfriend bleeding from her mouth, from internal injuries, and struggling to stand. Deathstroke looked to see the blonde standing, wide eyed. Deathstroke knew his power from observing it during the alien invasion. Acting quickly, Deathstroke took hold of his staff, as if it was a javelin, and hurled it at the blonde. It made contact with his forehead, knocking him flat on the ground and out cold. Still kneeling, Deathstroke pivoted around to see the villainess charging him. Placing his hand on the ground for balance, Deathstroke kicked up at the villainess. The kick connected with her chin. This caused Shego to stumble backwards. Being exhausted, at the end of her stumble, she fell into a sitting position. Deathstroke slowly and confidently stood from his kneeling position. He drew both of his swords and slowly walked towards Shego.

"I was here for the contract on the redhead, but it looks like I'm going to pick up the contract on your head too. It looks like Deadshot won't get his chance." Deathstroke spun his swords in his hands as he walked towards the villainess. When he was almost to her, an alarm went off in his earpiece. This alerted him that the cameras he setup spotted a Global Justice aircraft approaching the island. Deathstroke sheathed his swords and stopped advancing towards Shego.

"Damn, looks like Deadshot may get his chance after all. This was fun but there are more pressing matters for me to attend to." Deathstroke pulled a smoke grenade from his belt. He pulled the pin and flipped the safety lever off. He dropped the grenade at his feet. Smoke billowed out of it, covering Deathstroke's escape. Shego panted loudly as she watched the smoke begin to dissipate. She wiped some blood from the corner of her mouth. She heard someone with a cane approaching her from behind. A voice came from whoever it was.

"He is harder to solve than my riddles."


End file.
